As a Gentleman Should Be
by smellofthewild
Summary: A Zelgan/Ganzel oneshot. Supposed to be a little more on the comical side. It's probably not. The cover art belongs to Vestergaard on Deviantart.


No matter how lavishly he furnished her chambers, no matter how many books he collected for her, or how many feasts were prepared, this was a prison. She constantly reminded herself of this, for she kept finding that she spent longer than necessary thinking of his odd behaviour. Almost gentlemanly, always polite, disinterested, and never beastly as rumoured.

When she did catch his interest with her baited jabs at his ego, his retorts were witty, if not curt. He had yet to raise his voice at her, and this infuriated the Princess Zelda to no end. She wanted a rile out of him, to see his face turn as red as his damned hair.

Instead, after these exchanges, he would send a new book up to her room, an ornate dress would be given for that evening's dinner with him. She would wear it grudgingly, unappreciative of the refinery, or his choice in literature.

Perhaps he was saving his savagery for the Hero she wasn't so sure would appear now. All of the historical books she had access to spoke little of Ganondorf's evil or his character, but the Hero was always told to appear and smite the Dark Lord time and time again. This was her only solace in the prison of her own castle.

She wondered why none of the books spoke of his extravagant taste, or his ideals of perfection, and what of his near-obsession with order and routine? She noted how many of his smaller mannerisms she had observed.

His attention to detail, his subtle expressions of annoyance, anger, and very rarely, satisfaction. His hands must always be doing something, whether it be paperwork, sparring, strangling an enemy, or simply twiddling his thumbs idly when there was nothing more to be done.

All of the books had described the King of Evil as a savage, mad man, prone to being engulfed by flames or transforming into a hideous creature when angered. She had yet to see either, and found it thoroughly disappointing. A mad beast devoid of emotions would have been easier to understand than the tall, driven _gentleman_ that was her captor.

At any rate, being slaughtered by a giant boar would entertain more than the bore of being confined to her chambers and a few other rooms. The Gerudo man had barely paid her any mind recently, and seemed to brush her off as he would a irksome gnat.

The only time she had really caught his attention was when she, in a small act of resistance, refused to wear the silk dress provided for the evening meal, and instead arrived in her night shift. Zelda had thought the idea clever at the time, if he wanted her to dress like a court lady in his presence, the least she could do was appear scandalously underdressed.

_Oh_, how she regretted the decision now, she felt her face heat in shame at the cursed memory.

She had sat down, serene, as she would at any other royal feast with her court. Ganondorf had not even glanced up, his plate beside him untouched, he was looking through papers. Not discouraged, the princess began to eat, and for the life of her she could not recall what it was now.

Growing increasingly annoyed with the dark man's indifference, she coughed, and as she reached for her glass of water, she knocked a serving maid's pitcher out of her hands and into her own lap. The water had splashed up, ice cold and drenching down her entire front.

The maid effusively apologized, she had only meant to top the princess's glass off, it seemed.

"No, it's quite alright, I should have paid more attention," Zelda had stood up, feeling the chilled air through her thin night shirt now. "Why don't you fetch a robe from my chambers, I think it'd be best if I retire for the night." She raised her arms across her chest, and attempted to ward off the cold while she stood.

The maid had nodded furiously and scurried off, all too happy to escape the situation.

As the hall's doors slammed behind the maid, Zelda felt an intense stare boring into her. Flushing, she turned back towards the table.

"What... Are you wearing?" The Dark Lord gritted his teeth, and she felt his abhorrence across the table.

"An outfit of my own choice," She sniffed, moving as to show her captor she was not intimidated, she placed her hands on her hips.

The man made a noise in the back of his throat, and his gaze flashed downward, only to be raised again, disgust evident.

"_This_ is your method of defiance? How weak you have become, Princess," He intoned piteously, standing.

At his full height, a fear struck Zelda's heart. She would not let him see, but if he wanted to, she knew he could very well be the savage he was painted to have been in Hyrulian lore. His mere presence held so much influence, surely he did not need the Triforce piece of Power to reduce his foes to trembling?

He moved around the table with purpose, walking it's length to her end, his gaze analytical and annoyed the whole while. She shivered, whether in cold or apprehension she could not tell.

Ganondorf stood in front of her, looking down and feigning disappointment.

"Princess," He seemed to purr, and one of his hands picked up limp strands of hair, dripping from the spill, "Look at the mess you've made..."

Appalled, she watched as he seemed to break character and he let his eyes rove over her exposed body. The soaked shift clung to her, but she made no move to cover herself. His gaze was hungry, and she shuddered under it.

Ganondorf seemed to catch himself, and to her continued horror, he looked ashamed. Not blushing, but she imagined it was the equivalent for someone as dark as him.

"You are cold," He stated, jerking his hand away from her hair. He began to remove his cape, "You will catch a cold, and I refuse to deal with such inconveniences."

"That is not necessary," the princess flustered. "Please."

He scowled at her refusal, and she felt his impatience.

In the next moment, the maid had returned from Zelda's chambers with a plain robe. She paused once in the room, puzzled by the scene before her.

"...Princess?"

Suddenly, Zelda was aware of just how close Ganondorf was to her, and how he loomed over her. He seemed to notice this too, and backed up several generous steps.

"Yes," Zelda turned away from the evil king, feeling dismissed. She felt her cheeks burning, and she wanted nothing more than to leave. She snatched the robe up as she made for the doors, pulling it on rather unceremoniously.

"I think this dinner is over," She did not allow Ganon a word in edgewise, and she refused to look back towards him as she made her exit.

He had not called her for dinner for several days, he was never in the places she was permitted to wander, and she had received no more books. She found herself wishing for any sort of conversation, even with him, if only to not feel so alone.

She recalled hearing him laugh once, at one of dry cracks at him, and now the sound pervaded her conscience without permission. Laughing. He was probably laughing at her folly now, at her pitiful attempt to undermine him, and this idea drove her mad. She groaned in frustration and pulled at her hair.

He was not even going to give her the comfort of a book in this exile. She huffed in a short sort of laughter.

After resenting the books he had left her before, she could only wish he would be so considerate to send her a history book now. The vile man probably wanted to break her down so that she would beg for his company. She would sooner sit through that dinner again.

Her captor was no beast. He might have even been chivalrous. But she sat alone in her room with no book and resented that a beast would have been easier to hate than this polite gentleman that was Ganondorf.


End file.
